


Apart From You

by skullage



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullage/pseuds/skullage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis goes camping with friends before the big move to university, and he meets someone that changes his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apart From You

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote most of this in one night and it turned into something much longer than i originally intended. if i knew this was going to be eight thousand words i would've capitalised, and besides, who really needs eight thousand words of camping fluff? also i don't know anything about camping in the west country, so please forgive any errors and any inaccurate descriptions that i've pulled out of my arse.

the camping trip was zayn’s idea, but louis was all for a last hurrah before college was over for good and each of them moved away to start their lives as real, functioning adults. zayn had already packed his bag for brighton, but louis still wanted to make the most of what little time they had left, and for him that meant six packets of marshmallows, two bottles of vodka swiped from his mum’s liquor cabinet, and an extra sleeping bag for when zayn inevitably forgot his own.

it was almost night time when they left, still a little hungover from the night before; zayn refused to let louis so much as touch the radio controls let alone the steering wheel, so louis lay back and let the scenery roll by while zayn’s nineties r&b filled up the comfortable silence. by the time they got to the camp site, louis had listened to bell biv devoe so many times the lyrics were burned into his brain and pushed out everything he’d ever learned in history class. ce la vie, french revolution.

the other tents were already set up, and louis bounded out of the car before it had stopped to jump on liam’s back, hands over his eyes as liam stumbled around, accidentally kicking over one of the camping lights. after a minute liam had him pinned on the ground, tickling him into the pine needles and submission and, when niall joined in, louis was about ready to give up. zayn took the opportunity to peel niall away, because as much as he enjoyed louis getting tortured, he preferred to do the torturing. most of all, he preferred niall’s hands on himself. it was evident in how he took every opportunity to wrap his arms around niall’s waist, hugging him so hard niall bent backwards even as he returned it. zayn was so predictable it hurt.

“ugh,” louis groaned, “don’t tell me this was all just a ruse for a couple’s weekend in the woods. liam, are we the third wheel?”

zayn spared a moment from attacking niall’s mouth to flip him off. louis reached out to grab at liam’s stomach again, ready to exact his revenge, when an unfamiliar voice called out behind them.

“oh, what did I miss?”

louis twisted around to look but only managed to drive his head further into the ground and rolled it back to look at the new guy, upside down and smiling at louis like it was normal for someone their age to roll around in the dirt. it might’ve been: louis didn’t take much stock in what people with ethical standards of public behaviour considered normal. whatever normal was though, it certainly wasn’t this new person looming over them, with abnormally pretty eyes that shone in the lamplight, abnormally well-structured cheek bones, and abnormally long legs. normal had nothing on him.

“ooh, hello.”

“hello, i’m harry.” he smiled wider and louis felt his heart leap in his throat. he remembered that he was lying on the ground and sat up, twisting until he was facing harry again, who now had his hand outstretched in greeting.

louis glanced at it, back up at harry’s face, then launched himself at harry’s knees, tackling him to the ground. harry fell like a giant into the ground with an oomph, laughing at louis’s cheer of victory.

“you must be louis,” he said, sitting up.

“hmm, you’ve heard of me. well, i’ve no idea where they’ve been hiding you.” louis shot a damning look over his shoulder at liam and shook his head. “shame, absolute shame.”

liam shrugged. “harry, this is louis, mate from college. louis, this is harry, mate from school.”

“why, thank you liam, i’d never have known if you hadn’t introduced us.”

harry laughed again, and louis brightened despite himself. he was good at this, meeting new people and having them fall in love with his charm, but when he turned back to harry again, he could admit to himself that he wasn’t so good when it was the other way around. he felt the warmth of harry’s legs through his jeans against his own chest and shifted away from the contact.

zayn broke away from his anaconda grip on niall to clap his hands together. “right, tents, beds, food, let’s get this sorted.”

“rightio, fearless leader,” louis chirped.

it took longer than louis’s attention span could hold to set up the rest of the camp, even with the five of them, zayn whining every two minutes that louis couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and niall complaining that he couldn’t see shit in the dark, but they got it sorted, and liam was good enough to whip out the crisps while the rest of them collapsed around the makeshift fire. the fire was really five lights set up in a circle, but none of them were in any way inclined to actually start a real fire. for now, the lights were enough.

louis and harry were sat on the same rolled out sleeping bag, close enough that their shoulders brushed every time harry laughed or louis stretched out his arm to throw a chip in niall’s mouth. harry stood up to grab the bag of doritos from liam and when he sat back down, his knee pressed against louis’s in a way that louis spent the next twenty minutes debating was deliberate or not.

“brighton’ll be great, though, i’m gonna be a teacher. do something real with my life, y’know? make an impact.” zayn’s voice turned that gravelly, hypnotic tone he always had when he talked long enough for something real to come out. harry seemed rapt, eyes big and glassy and soaking in all of zayn’s teenage wisdom.

“you could busk on the streets of bristol, that’s real,” louis said, only half-mocking but doing it kindly. “you’d meet some real interesting folks.”

niall snuggled closer to zayn on their own sleeping bag. “ye’ll be a great teacher, zayn.”

“thanks, ni,” zayn replied, head lowered enough to betray his embarrassment, but he rubbed niall’s shoulder anyway and met him for a kiss. louis felt the tiniest inkling of jealousy watching them, but more than that he felt the annoyance at how his hilarious sense of humour was ignored. just as he opened his mouth to ruin the moment, he felt harry’s hand on his knee, harry’s eyes on him in a way that set his skin on fire.

“what about you, lou? uni?”

“yep, it’s brighton for me, too.”

“no busking?” harry asked with a grin.

“i was thinking about it, bumming around new york or paris for a couple years, see some culture, collect scars, y’know, like all the hollywood heartthrobs and disenfranchised artists, but, eh. england’s the place for me.”

“there’s always Newcastle, the next best thing,” harry joked, quietly, pressing his lips together to hide a smile like he wasn’t sure he was allowed. and really, it wasn’t fair what that did to louis’s chest, or the way his heart swelled up in his throat and he had to suck in air until his ribcage heaved, once, quickly, suppressing a sigh at the end just to remind himself that he could, in fact, still breathe without embarrassing himself.

they chatted for a couple more hours, listening to the cicadas buzz-sawing through the night, until zayn’s yawn broke through the conversation and liam looked in danger of falling asleep right there. they shuffled around, pulling each other up and kicking dirt all over the sleeping bags in the process, yawning and hugging out their respective goodnights. zayn, predictably, pulled niall into his own tent, and louis grumbled loudly about the lack of sense that made when they’d already set up five and was faced with another rude hand gesture from zayn, who loved louis most of all and wasn’t afraid to show it.

louis was kind of tired but mostly buzzed on his second win and didn’t really have an excuse for turning around to wrap harry up in a hug, and absolutely no reason for pressing his nose into harry’s curls and fingers into his waist like he had a right to. he must’ve done something right because harry returned everything louis gave him, including the squeeze and the over-the-shoulder smile as they slipped into their own tents. and louis probably should’ve known better than to lie awake thinking about how easy it would’ve been to make up some excuse, how willing harry might have been to let louis sleep in his tent, too. but the only other thing he could think about was the way niall and zayn looked at each other, and what he wouldn’t give to have someone who looked at him like that.

as it turned out, there wasn’t a whole lot of things on that list.

in the morning the list had shrunk down to only one thing, but it didn’t make him feel any better about it, or any better about the amount of mosquito bites he’d accumulated in the night. the others seemed to have fared better, liam looking perky and refreshed, and zayn and niall practically glowing in the light. but niall was irish, so he always glowed. it probably had more to do with how pale he was and not how much sex he was having.

harry was the only one who looked normal, and even then, normal was relative when faced with those cheekbones. his hair was a mess and he looked like he needed a dozen cups of coffee to wake up properly, but somehow it worked for him. he was wearing a v-neck t-shirt and skinny jeans and christmas socks at six thirty in the morning but still managed to look more at home in the wilderness than louis felt.

he also had a camera slung around his neck. louis’s sleep-addled mind supplied him with images of finally going to all the places he wanted to – before he had to repeat his last year of sixth form and realised his life was more than fucking around – but this time harry would be there with him, dragging him along to every touristy place they could physically walk on and snapping pictures the entire time. it made louis’s chest ache in an entirely new way.

“so, plan?” niall asked as they were sat around the cooker, hands wrapped around steaming mugs of tea to stave off the morning chill.

“we could go for a hike, the sign back there said there was a nature trail.” liam was so full of pep in the mornings that louis sometimes felt exhausted just watching him.

“it must be hard being you,” louis joked, and liam’s ears reddened.

“it was just a suggestion,” he mumbled. louis grinned and rubbed liam’s newly-shorn scalp. “there’s also a creek about two hundred metres down, if you want.”

louis immediately perked up. “yes, perfect, skinny dipping. liam, you’re a genius.” he elbowed harry in the ribs and revelled in the glow of harry’s sheepish smile, his lips shining red and wet from the tea residue.

“that’s a bit gay, dude,” zayn scoffed, and niall erupted into giggles. liam sighed.

louis shot him a look, hissing, “ow, my virgin ears, you are so rude,” and niall laughed harder. they ended up going to the creek, which looked as inviting as an ice bath in swedish winter, to which liam reasoned, “first the hike, then the creek”.

by the end of the hike, louis’s legs were about to fall off and when they did he would use them to beat liam with for putting him through that. zayn was doing about the same, stopping every twenty minutes to light a cigarette and then puffing his way along the trail. niall wasn’t faring much better; instead of actively walking he opted to let zayn drag him, shouting out every so often about how the half a bag of crisps he hadn’t finished at breakfast would be the death of him, he was going to starve, and they were doing nothing about it. harry paused in taking pictures of every single interesting leaf he could find to whip out a dairy milk bar from his pocket, and the look on niall’s face was nothing short of ecstatic.

“I love you,” he muttered, teeth full of chocolate, “i love you, i honestly, you have no idea,” just about shoving the entire thing in his mouth in one go, which louis had to admit was pretty mortifying, and more than he needed to know even for their lack of boundaries. harry snapped a picture of that, too.

“i thought you preferred the ones with nuts,” louis said, because he was an arsehole. niall almost choked on either laughter or chocolate – it couldn’t have been shame, he didn’t have any – and zayn shoved louis’s shoulder in defence of niall’s honour. when they circled back around to the creek they were too tired to do anything but lie down on the bank, cushioned by the grass and swatting away crickets.

harry snapped some more pictures, and louis reached out with his foot to nudge him.

“liam didn’t tell me you’re a photographer.”

harry grinned. “did he tell you much about me?”

louis grinned back. “that would’ve ruined the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

they quickly fell into easy company, as louis pointed out things for harry to photograph, and harry failed to surreptitiously take photos of louis with ridiculous excuses like “the light likes you, i don’t even understand, it just hits you right” which louis refused to be flattered by. after about forty minutes louis realised that they were alone and pointed it out.

“yeah, the others left,” harry said, snapping a picture of a grasshopper on louis’s knee.

“really? i swear they were just here. i can still hear the sound of niall sucking zayn’s face off. they must be close, at least.”

harry snapped another pic, higher this time, of the thread at louis’s shirt hem that had been picked loose.

“um, nah, they left a little while ago.” harry gave him a worried look, like louis might be a little slow and harry might be a little slow for not noticing. louis interrupted his internal crisis by knocking their knees together.

“seems i’ve got you all to myself, then.” he could tell himself he meant it as a joke, and that the way harry stared down at the camera in his hands until he took it off and placed it next to himself meant nothing, but when harry looked up at him again louis felt the same breathlessness as before but with nothing like exhaustion or a hangover to blame it on.

“yeah, seems like,” harry murmured.

“so you really wanna be a photographer then?” louis asked, because he honestly was curious, but mostly because he needed to fill the silence.

harry shrugged. “i really want to be a singer.”

louis swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.

“do you really want to go to brighton?”

“zayn can sing,” louis said instead of answering.

harry’s statement bordered on something that was too real for louis to handle, because he wasn’t any good at being real. he spend the year before last joking around and finding every possible way to cock up his education so he wouldn’t have to deal with anything close to obligation or responsibility. he had enough responsibility taking care of his little sisters that he didn’t need anything else heaped on his plate. if harry looked too closely through his lens he might see the failure that louis was, and wouldn’t that be the biggest joke of all.

“liam was in choir and band, and niall’s pretty good with guitar.”

“liam says you’ve got a good voice, too,” harry offered, and it sounded kind.

“nah, i’m no singer.”

harry cleared his throat. “you don’t have to do that.”

louis shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows. “do what? be devilishly attractive and charming? sorry babe, it’s in the contract.”

“be modest,” harry corrected, a small smile playing at his lips. “you don’t have to be modest.”

louis swallowed again and didn’t answer right away. “well, if the shoes fits.”

harry knocked the toes of their shoes together, and it was cute enough that louis laughed, even if harry was so long he had to bend one of his knees to do it. eventually the others came back for them, bearing food and a cooler full of drinks, and by that time it was warm enough that swimming was an option. niall, true to form, was too lazy to do more than lounge around with his shirt off, and zayn was only coaxed in once liam said he would go, too. they still spluttered a bit when they hit the cold water, the kind of entertainment which louis figured was a reward for being smart enough to stay out of it.

his superiority only lasted long enough until harry stood up and walked to the edge, sans camera, stripping off his clothes as he went. it was something out of a fever dream that louis had had before: someone gliding – or in harry’s case mostly stumbling – down to the water’s edge, sun shining golden off his skin, shedding clothing until he was stark naked and slipping into the water – except, in louis’s dream, that person was a mermaid by the time they hit the water, and his first grade english teacher was standing behind him shouting out random french words that roughly translated to the plot of a novel louis’d read and abandoned on the subway. the dream hadn’t done him any favours then, and it wasn’t helping him now.

“oh, I forgot to mention,” liam piped up, after what seemed like an eternity of louis trying not to look or to react in any way, “harry likes to get naked a lot.”

“thanks for the head’s up,” louis grumbled as harry dropped and his shoulders disappeared into the water. he must’ve been sitting down. zayn was still alive, so the water couldn’t have been that deep. a second later zayn dunked liam, so louis figured all was right in the world.

“i’ve seen better,” niall murmured sleepily next to him.

“your eyes aren’t even open, you twit.”

“doesn’t matter, I’ve seen better.”

louis scoffed. “wow, having a boyfriend has really changed you. i hope i don’t catch whatever lovesickness this is.”

“nah, it hasn’t,” niall said, “and yeah, you do. i was always like this, zayn just makes it better. y’know, seem worth it.”

“hmm,” louis replied. it came out more snappish than he’d meant and niall leaned over and punched him in the leg. the bastard didn’t even have to look. “one: ouch. two: it’s not that i’m not happy for you, it’s just—”

“—you’re you,” niall finished for him.

“way to soften the blow.”

niall laughed. “well, you are. and when you finally get happy i hope it won’t change you, either. nothin’ wrong with you, mate. just gotta let people in, and not be so ‘fraid of them judgin’ you for who you are and stuff you can’t change.”

louis was very close to laughing, or crying, he didn’t know which. he often forgot just how perceptive niall was, and how easily a few words could cut through all of louis’s bullshit defence mechanisms. “well, thank you, niall. namaste to you, too.”

this time when niall reached out it was to pull louis into a crushing hug, and louis was grateful to have a shoulder to bury his face in while harry frolicked in the creek like the woodland creature in all louis’s most fucked up dreams, even if all louis was breathing by the end of it was the mixture of two people’s sweat, cologne, and sex that clung to niall.

they packed up soon after that and went back to the camp where liam immediately set about making a fire before he realised he needed kindling and something to light it with. zayn threw his own lighter at liam’s head in an act of casual hatred because apparently that’s how best friends act, but this time liam was ready for him and caught it.

“we still need kindling,” liam reminded them.

“me and zayn’ll go,” niall said, but liam stopped him with a hand.

“no, you won’t. you’ll get distracted making out in the woods, forget about the kindling until it’s too dark to see, and then we’ll have to come rescue you. that doesn’t sound like a good time, sorry.”

“i’ll go,” harry offered, and louis wished they were on best-friend terms so he could casually hate harry for being so nice. he would settle for just admiring his biceps as he carted wood, though.

“i’ll go too,” louis added, kicking zayn in the shin as he went in pre-emptive retaliation for whatever comment zayn was about to make.

“subtle,” zayn coughed into his fist, despite the shin-kicking.

“you’re one to talk about subtle, need i remind you how you and niall got together?”

Zayn shot him a threatening look, but niall rolled on the ground, laughing.

“maybe another time,” harry said, and louis jumped. he’d forgotten harry was there, within hearing distance of louis and zayn’s big mouth. “shall we?”

louis took a breath and followed harry into the woods.

the next few days passed pretty much the same – taking turns to cook and clean and find kindling and chase spiders out of the tents, and then just shouting _fuck it_ and all piling into one tent anyway, the five of their sleeping bags zipped together because it just felt natural that way. it wasn’t until their second last night that louis remembered the stash in his bag, and then the one in zayn’s which he was surprised hadn’t been handed around on the first night anyway.

louis had been surprised at a lot of things over the last couple of days, but the biggest was how easily they fit together as a group. he’d never felt less like having a drink in his life, because he didn’t need to fill up the lulls in conversation or try to coax anyone into doing something stupid with him, they just did it.

this was probably what everyone meant when they talked about personal growth. louis kind of liked it.

he liked harry, too. it was obvious from the start but it was the truth. they lay together at the end of the giant sleeping bag as they all passed the torched around and told scary stories in the dark, complete with terrible x-files sound effects. louis took it as an excuse to cuddle harry closer to him, arms wrapped around him like a strangler fig and face buried in harry’s hair, heart pounding as harry let him.

“can’t believe we’re going home tomorrow,” harry said one morning as they lounged around the creek again, apropos of nothing. “feels like we’ve been here forever. one of those endless summers, y’know?”

“mm,” louis agreed, stretching his arms above his head. “so, what are your plans, young harold? a pirate’s life for you?”

harry rolled to look at him, resting up on one elbow with grass in his hair and a slight smattering of red across the bridge of his nose. “the london institute, i guess. for photography. though i might see if i can get into a music course.”

“yeah, you should.”

distantly, louis heard the others calling out to each other, rummaging around in the underbrush for no apparent reason. he rolled over to face harry with a groan, pulling harry’s other arm over himself until they were tucked together. “i don’t want to go back, i still have to pack and sort out my accommodation, it’s going to be hell. harry, don’t make me go back.”

harry laughed and tucked him in closer. “come stay with me, i’ll hide you in my suitcase. you’re small enough to fit in my suitcase.”

“hey,” louis pouted, but didn’t protest. “just because you’re freakishly tall. at least i fit through regular doorways.”

harry huffed a laugh into louis’s hair. “i’m serious, you should come with me. to london, I mean. we could room together.”

“yeah, let’s start out own little clique that no one else can join, it’ll be just like sixth form.”

“i’m serious, lou. come to london with me.”

louis pulled back because he had to be sure that the sincerity in harry’s voice showed in his eyes as well, and when he was, he frowned. “but i’m going to brighton with zayn.”

“what’s brighton got that london hasn’t?”

“zayn,” louis answered automatically. harry nodded thoughtfully. “and it’s close to where i am now.”

“so’s london. this is england, everywhere is close.”

“so I don’t need to go to london, then, do i?”

“but we won’t be together,” harry replied. the simplicity of the statement almost broke louis’s heart.

“harry–” he started, with no idea how to continue that sentence. they were still wrapped around each other, harry’s ridiculous limbs and distracting heat suddenly suffocating. “i don’t know how – i’m not good at this. i can’t just uproot my life for someone i met four days ago.”

he hadn’t meant for it to sound harsh, but it was the truth. harry glanced away, looking hurt. “okay, i get that. i wouldn’t want you to either, just so you know.”

louis chewed his lip while harry pretended to be really interested in something else. “can i just say – i really like you.”

“i like you, too.” harry’s face when he looked at louis again was drawn, but his answer was immediate and with enough feeling that it didn’t sound parroted.

“i really like you.”

harry nodded. “i really like you, too.”

“i think i might be in love with you,” louis blurted. “which is ridiculous, we haven’t even kissed yet.”

“is that how you decide?” there were so many conflicting expression flitting across harry’s face that louis couldn’t read them all. “i mean, do we have to for you to know for sure?”

louis sighed and rolled onto his back, hands covering his face, fingers pressing into his skin. harry let go of him. “i don’t know, i don’t know.”

“you don’t know all that much, do you?”

the words were sharp in louis’s ear and made him pay attention. he rested up on his elbows to look. harry was angry, lips thin and eyes narrowed. “excuse me?”

“you don’t know what you want to do with your life, you don’t know where you want to go, you don’t know if you want me. it’s tiring, lou. i’m tired.” harry sat up, balancing his forearms on his knees.

“well, do you want _me_?”

“yes,” harry spat, “i want you and i want you to move with me to london. it’s that simple.”

even hearing the words louis was torn, because it really wasn’t. nothing was that simple, not even when it came out of harry’s mouth in a drawl like honey dripping from a spoon.

“maybe i do want to,” louis countered, but he wasn’t sure if it was true or if he was just being difficult.

“then you should. but only if you want to.”

“okay–” he started, cut off by harry’s, “you should kiss me if you want to, you should swim naked if you want to, you should sing if you want to, you should go to whatever fucking college you want to, because you want to,” and louis was taken aback by the passion in his voice when he said it.

“i want to take your picture,” harry announced, without looking at him. “can i? i want something to remember you.”

louis waited a beat before asking, “should i flash some thigh?” and was rewarded by harry hiding a grin in the crook of his arm. “okay, you can take my picture. but I want to tell you something. you can’t tell anyone.”

“i won’t,” harry promised, reaching for his camera, bringing it into focus as he got up on his knees.

louis braced himself, inhaling slowly and ready for the moment his vulnerabilities would bleed through the lens. if he timed it right, harry could get it in the photo. and that’s how he should remember louis.

“the night i met you, i made a list in my head.”

the shutter went off and louis flinched, then shook himself off and schooled his expression.

“you know the way niall and zayn look at each other?” harry hummed in agreement and took another photo. “kind of like, how the sun and the moon would look at each other when they meet, because they’re so wholly different and yet they need each other, they keep each other in balance.” another click, another photo. “and i’ve realised i want that, someone to look at me like that.”

“and the list?”

“yeah, slow it down, i’m getting there.” click. “it’s a list of things i wouldn’t give, that i’d never give, if i had someone who looked at me like that.” click. louis felt the lump in his throat form again, voice scratched raw like vinyl, his brittle bones shaking as he breathed himself calm. “and i could only come up with one thing that i wouldn’t give up.”

click. harry peeked over his camera, awaiting the punchline.

“the only thing i wouldn’t give up is the person who looked at me like that.”

click.

“and what would you do for them if you had them?”

click.

louis bit his tongue and stared down the lens. “give them piggy-back rides.”

harry put down his camera, a hint of a smile on his face. “thank you. for being so honest.”

“that’s the problem with liars, harry. you can never tell when they’re actually being honest.”

harry laughed this time. “more pirates of the caribbean references?”

louis leaned further back, still propped up on his elbows. “i can’t change.”

“okay,” harry agreed. “can i kiss you now?”

“you may,” louis replied, not even bothering to hold his smile as harry crawled over to him, slotting himself between louis’s thighs, hands braced above his head. louis could smell the flavoured vaseline on harry’s lips from inches away. harry kissed softly, as if he was memorizing it, as if they had years instead of just one more day. his hand came down to louis’s cheek, brushing across his ear in a way that made him shiver, and, like everything harry did, made seem so easy.

they kept the pace steady for longer than louis could manage, making out lazily while louis’s head spun, until harry placed a broad palm around his thigh and squeezed. he felt so much that even that simple touch was amplified and he moaned into harry’s mouth, embarrassed at how shameless he was for it. harry responded eagerly by pressing down until they were flush together and hitching louis’s leg up around his own hip. the contact unfurled a fire in louis’s stomach, a punch of arousal that pushed the air out of his lungs.

“fuck,” louis breathed into the space between harry’s chin and shoulder.

harry ground down harder, their hips and angles lined up and urging the friction in their trousers. louis dug his fingers into harry’s hair and harry arched up into it, baring his neck for louis to latch his mouth onto. they worked up a steady, rough rhythm that shot sparks up louis’s spine and had him whining within minutes, pushing his hips up to meet harry’s, teeth dug into harry’s shoulder.

louis thought about moving his hand lower, working it into harry’s jeans because he was already hard and could feel harry hard against himself, too, and realistically they didn’t have much time together. harry already had his picture; louis needed something to remember harry.

a noise broke out across the clearing, niall’s unmistakeable cackle of laughter that jarred them out of their solitude. harry pulled back with a start, eyes scared wide as he stared through the bushes. the other three trudged up to them, grinning and shouting out, niall fist pumping the air where he was lifted on zayn’s back.

“oh my god,” louis wailed. harry crawled off him to sit back on his haunches and louis felt the immediate loss. he huffed and starfished on the grass, uncaring of the state of his jeans; if they were willing to interrupt they should be willing to pay the price inflicted on them.

“lunch is ready,” liam said, even peppier than usual, trying to suppress what looked like a proud smirk.

“what perfect timing,” louis sniped. he got to his feet quickly, brushing himself down and picking grass out of his fringe as niall whispered things that louis ignored into zayn’s ear. he shot them a look that perfectly conveyed his irritation. “you two aren’t as cute as you think you are.”

“zayn,” liam warned in his best i’m-your-elder-and-you’ll-listen-to-me voice. zayn bit his lip sheepishly, but his contrition didn’t last long.

niall whispered something else and zayn barked out a laugh, doubling over with his face scrunched up and almost dropping niall on the ground. louis cackled as loudly and obnoxiously as he could. liam reached over to tap zayn in the balls and louis couldn’t have been prouder of him or more grateful for their inappropriate friendship.

“so, lunch?” liam reiterated.

“yeah, mate, i’m starved,” niall announced, “come on, you lot.” he dug his heels into zayn’s sides and imitated a cowboy, waving his arm in the air like he had a lasso and chanting, “geerup,” when zayn didn’t move fast enough. liam shot louis a concerned look as he led them away, but louis just shrugged.

harry was still curled over himself on the ground when louis turned back, but scrambled up quickly at the nod of louis’s head back to camp.

“come on then, london.”

harry cleared his throat and shook the grass out of his hair. louis planned to keep his hands to himself, especially while the others were around, until harry grabbed for his hand as he started walking to spin him back around.

“what—” louis started. the noise was cut off as harry leaned down to kiss him, softly again, murmuring _we’re not done yet_ and leaned back just as quickly to gauge louis’s reaction.

“ok,” louis replied. “just couldn’t resist, then?”

harry’s eyes flicked down to louis’s mouth where his lips shined from the vaseline. “come on then, brighton.” he set off and left louis standing there, licking salve off his lips, swallowing the taste of it past the dryness in his mouth.

that night they sat around the fire again, after zayn spent twenty minutes trying to coax the ember into a flame. the flames threw harry’s face into shadow and demonised the angles of his pale skin and louis found himself staring too long, looking away when harry turned his head. they sat close but didn’t talk much, or louis didn’t, at least, opting to let the conversation happen around him without bothering to include himself. he drained his tea and muttered goodnights while the others threw confused glances around at no one in particular.

with the memory of harry’s tongue in his mouth still fresh in his mind, louis crawled into his own tent alone. he lied awake, almost painfully hard and stubbornly refusing to do anything about it while the others, harry, were less than ten feet away. sleep wasn’t really an option, and he resigned himself to waiting impatiently for dawn while time dragged him closer to their inevitable goodbye and, beyond that, a new city. he wondered what was wrong with him that he wasn’t sad, that what bothered him most of all wasn’t not seeing harry again, but that harry wanted to give him something he’d been after for a long time without an agenda.

louis didn’t need a relationship to complete his life when he was only just getting it on track. he wondered if niall would come in to lay some more truth down, because louis was a shit at the best of times and niall had a constructive way of picking him apart that he could really have used it at that moment.

he didn’t have to wait long before someone poked their head through, more curls than man.  he waited at the opening in the tent, jiggling the zipper up and down and murmured, “hey.”

louis was glad for the sleeping bag covering his waist, just so he didn’t inadvertently make the entire situation weirder. “hi.”

harry didn’t wait for an invitation to crawl into the tent, but settled next to louis on top of the sleeping bag with enough careful space between them that it had to be calculated. “are you ok?” he asked, but what louis heard was _are we_ , harry tripping over his own conscience and need to make everyone alright.

faced with the force of harry’s guilt, louis felt something in him – some deep-seeded protective instinct – course through his blood. he wanted to kiss harry until harry stopped worrying, hold him down and reach into all the dark places that harry thought no one wanted to see and destroy all of harry’s limited knowledge of him until he knew louis completely, until all harry knew was louis. selfishly, louis wanted to break harry down and rebuild him.

the way harry stared at him, mouth slightly open and eyes wide enough that louis could fall into them, it was all louis could think of. maybe harry would let him.

the thought was enough to make him bold again, shifting until they faced each other and surging up when harry didn’t recoil to whisper, “kiss me,” into his mouth, biting back a moan when harry complied.

this time the kiss was a frantic, hungry thing, made of their legs kicking the sleeping bag again, fingers pulling apart their clothes to get at the skin beneath, their shared breath and the aching need to crawl inside of each other.

they got as far as their shirts up, pressed chest to chest with their pants pushed down and hands warm and slicked by just enough saliva to get each other off quickly. louis choked his release into the hollow of harry’s throat, eyes screwed shut against it as it wracked his whole body until he shook himself clean. harry wasn’t long after, a hand on louis’s jaw to kiss him again, eyes open right up until the last moment when he spilled over both of their stomachs.

louis was content to lie there, sweaty, sticky, basking in the lazy kisses they traded for a few minutes, and was grateful when harry reached for his own shirt and wiped them both down.

“another souvenir?” louis joked, and harry wrinkled his nose, chucked the shirt across the other side of the tent – which, admittedly, was only about two feet away.

“gross,” harry replied. he yawned then, stretched his yeti limbs above his head, and turned back to snuffle close to louis’s chest. louis’s heart was still pounding against his ribcage; harry wasn’t doing anything to calm it down, especially not when he was the cause, and eventually it quietened. lead settled into louis’s bones, his eyes slipping shut and his breath evening out until he fell asleep.

he woke up the next morning, shivering from the cold and curled into the corner of the tent. it took several minutes for him to realise where he was, and another to find harry still there, his mop of hair peeking out from beneath the pile of sleeping bag. at least one of them slept fine.

“bastard,” louis cursed under his breath. another minute passed in which louis tugged the sleeping bag from under harry’s lax body, who only snuffled quietly and curled into himself tighter. in the end louis managed to pry enough free to wiggle in and stick his freezing fingers on harry’s sides, giggling as harry shivered and blinked awake.

“whuh,” he mumbled, unmoved by the massive grin on louis’s face.

“morning,” louis replied, wiggling closer until every cold part of him was pressed into harry’s warmth.

“mmph, lou,” harry groaned, “fucking freezing, what’d you sleep outside?”

harry didn’t protest louis burrowing into him like a frozen parasite, so louis settled down. “someone stole all the sheets, and all the warmth.”

“what a jerk,” harry yawned, mostly still asleep. his eyes, watery from sleep, shone bright green, his pupils almost non-existent but growing larger as they adjusted to the light. the plush red of his lips stood out against his pale skin, and louis caught himself before he began to write sonnets in his head to harry’s beauty.

his hands wandered down harry’s sides, eliciting a full body shiver that louis chalked up to more than just the cold, until he stopped. “you’re naked,” he pointed out, even though by this point he really shouldn’t have been surprised.

“always sleep naked,” harry rumbled, and louis felt it in both their chests.

“ok, then.”

once louis regained feeling in his toes he yawned; all harry had to say was “go back to sleep” and louis was out again. the next time he woke up he was alone, cocooned in the sleeping bag and blissfully warm. the phantom heat of harry’s limbs bugged him until he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and crawled to the tent opening. outside, harry puttered around the fire pit in only his pants and a pair of ugg boots, pulling out mugs, tea bags, and the hot plate, face drawn in concentration as he put them all together.

the sun hadn’t yet risen and the chill nipped at louis’s bare skin; he didn’t know how harry could stand it, but he seemed fine, even hunched over on the log waiting for the kettle to boil. he whipped his head around when louis let out a small cough.

harry patted the seat beside him. “hello, again.”

louis struggled ungracefully out of the tent, still in his pajama pants with his shirt open and bare feet that froze up as soon as they hit the ground. he pushed the tent flap out of his face and waved it in irritation. “do they specifically design these things to embarrass everyone that uses them? i mean, what kind of person can successfully navigate through a tent opening with their dignity intact?”

“only hikers and sociopaths,” harry answered.

“speaking of—” louis dragged his fingers across harry’s scalp, but they were too warm to shock, and harry leaned into the touch instead of squirming away like louis had hoped. he was practically purring under louis’s hands. “wow, aren’t you easy.”

harry opened his eyes again. “yeah, little bit.”

the water heated up soon enough and harry doled out the tea.

“so, i was thinking,” he said, sitting back on the log, hands wrapped around his mug, “we should go down to the creek again, before we leave.”

louis nodded and blew on his tea. they spent the next ten minutes drinking in silence, sneaking glances at each other across the fire pit, a respectable distance apart that they couldn’t touch without obvious intent behind it. louis didn’t trust himself right now not to ruin the moment. he set his mug down when harry did and followed him away from the campsite, hissing when twigs dug into his skin. their arms brushed as they walked, and it was enough.

harry stopped by the water to take his uggs off, and then his pants after he turned to look at louis expectantly. louis cracked a grin and followed him then, too, shucking his shirt and pajama bottoms and relishing the way harry stared without shame. they kept their silence, but harry made the first move, reaching out for louis’s hand to lead him into the water.

louis didn’t know what he was expecting, but it had to be worse: the first touch of water on his toes had him cursing and shrinking back and suddenly very, very self-conscious. harry laughed and tugged harder on his hand, pulling him further into the water even though by the time it was up to their shins they were both shivering and louis was ready to push harry down and run for safety back on solid land. when harry laced their fingers together, louis forgot all about it.

“isn’t this fun?” harry asked, teeth chattering slightly, still wading forward, grip tight on louis’s hand until it was in danger of losing feeling as much as the rest of him. they stopped when their waists were submerged and harry pulled louis close.

“s-so much fun,” louis replied, standing up on his toes to wrap his arms around harry’s neck. he waited a beat, until the tension began to seep out of harry’s shoulders, before he leapt up and used the momentum to push harry underwater. for a moment the elation won out over his freezing limbs, and he was still cheering when harry emerged like a waterfall, shaking hair out of his eyes as the water poured off him and he inhaled sharply.

“ohmygod,” he slurred, hacking up a cough. his shock face was much more entertaining than his orgasm face. he peered at louis through his bangs, looking like a kitten that accidentally fell into the bathtub. “what was that for?”

louis cackled and bounded out of his reach, as much as he could while in the water and wary of harry’s ridiculously long arms. harry moved after him clumsily, wrapping himself around louis until he was saturated, too, and all but scooping him up as louis tried and failed to twist out of his grip.

the temperature had risen by the time they came out of the water, enough that louis didn’t feel so self-conscious just to lie naked on the grass as they dried off. he wondered what it was about harry that made him feel careful about his behaviour, at the same time that he wanted to act crazy just to make harry notice him more.

louis felt a flush down his chest as harry reached over to brush their knuckles together.

“so. last day.”

louis hummed. “yeah. there’s still time to put zayn’s hand in a bowl of warm water, though.” he turned his head and harry did the same, droplets of water falling from his eyelashes.

“what are we gonna do? about this, i mean.” harry stroked his fingers along the back of louis’s hand.

louis shrugged. “exchange numbers and get a webcam. you’re on facebook, right?”

harry’s answering smile did the same thing to louis’s insides as harry’s fingers. “good.”

“good,” louis repeated. he turned his head back to watch the sky but pictured the next few days, the pile of clothes back home on his bedroom floor that he still had to pack, the accommodation forms, his sisters and mum teary-eyed as they watch him leave, and, in the back of his mind, london. the possibility of waking up in the morning with harry there, and that warmth, and that list.

he felt time trickle by as the sun warmed them and blades of grass dug into his back, pulling him back to reality. in the end, it didn’t matter that this was their last day together. the universe wasn’t so cruel that they wouldn’t meet again. 


End file.
